


call me like that Carly Rae Jepsen song

by dandelioness



Series: Find You Every Time [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Asexual Character, Epistolary, Genderqueer Character, Other, Trans Character, Wrong Number AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2018-12-09 02:33:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11659803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelioness/pseuds/dandelioness
Summary: In which Shawn relies too much on modern technology to remember phone numbers for him, Abdel learns to not ask questions they don't want to know the answers to, and Leland quickly tires of saving their dumb asses.





	1. (january)

**Author's Note:**

> The rating is for off-screen violence and the rude language of these awful foul-mouthed fucks. Because this is primarily told through texts and I'm a freak of nature about formatting, characters are differentiated by area code: (802) for Abdel and (301) for Shawn, with additional notes for other characters.
> 
> Also, Vermont is pretty much exactly like this, so there's that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the next installment. Same assholes, different setting.

**(January 20)**

4:13 am, EST

_(301): open the damn door_

_(802): Pardon?_

_(301): its fuckin freezing out here let me in  
lee you stupid stubborn fuck_

_(802): There seems to have been a mistake. I'm not Lee; you have the wrong number._

_(301): ah shit_  
_sorry for callin u a stupid stubborn fuck dude_  
_also for probly waking you up at ass oclock_

_(802): Accepted. Please don't freeze to death._

2:46 pm, EST

_(802): My conscience demands I confirm that you did not, in fact, die of exposure last night._

_(301): yeah sorry about that. new phone, thought i had the bastards # memorized but apparently not so much  
also yeah I'm fine_

_(802): So you managed to get ahold of your Lee? Since you appear to have survived after all._

_(301): my lee wtf_  
_no_  
_nah i just broke in_

_(802): ... Come again?_

_(301): way less sketch than it sounds i promise_  
_known him since we were kids_  
_its cool_

_(802): I'm going to choose to believe you on this one. I'm just glad you didn't perish in the cold._

_(301): close fuckin call. vt i swear_

_(802): Not exactly the friendliest place to be caught out in the elements, particularly in January._

_(301): u can say that again_

_(802): Not exactly the friendliest place to be caught out in the elements, particularly in January._

_(301): smartass_

_(802): More often than not, yes._

 

**(January 22)**

12:17 pm, EST

_(301): dude what tf do people even do in vt???_

_(802): Ah, hello stranger._

_(301): close enough  
strange actually_

_(802): What's strange? (Other than your texting me about entertainment in this great state, obviously.)_

_(301): i am  
shit wait_

_(802): I couldn't agree more._

_(301): its my NAME asshat._  
_shawn strange_  
_so now im not a stranger right?_

_(802): Something like that. It's nice to meet you, Shawn Strange. My name is Abdel._

_(301): no last name?_

_(802): My parents taught me not to share personal information with strangers._

_(301): fuckin christ how old are you_

_(802): Old enough to have a doctorate and a modicum of common sense.  
Crow books, if you're in Burlington. There's also the Ben  & Jerry's factory, though it may not seem the season for ice cream._

_(301): shit this whole thing was creepy of me wasnt it_

_(802): Slightly less so than when you demanded I let you into my home at four in the morning._

_(301): hard to beat that yeah_  
_anyway thanks. ur the only not-lee person i know in the state_  
_for like a given value of know_

_(802): Well, I am a native Vermonter, but I'm afraid there's only so much advice I can give. There are a few worthwhile attractions in the city, some excellent skiing, and very little else. If you're trapped in the countryside, there's no hope for you._

_(301): wut fuckenin city dude  
dont u dare say burlington_

_(802): Burlington? It is, in fact, a city._

_(301): lies. just straight up lies dude._

_(802): And who are you to judge our tiny state, hmm? I'll have you know Burlington is practically a bustling metropolis._

_(301): ive driven thru the continental 48 ok fuckin_  
montana has bigger cities  
_im 90% sure they have more cows than people_

_(802): Oh, I apologize. I hadn't realized I was speaking with such a worldly traveler. In that case, mock away._

_(301): asshat_

_(802): One of my greatest failings, I'm afraid._

**(January 25)**

11:07 am, EST

_(802): Given that a dairy cow just walked in front of my car on a main road, I may have to concede your point that Burlington is not actually a city._

3:05 pm, EST

_(301): shit dude_  
_ur kidding me_  
_????  
_ _thats fuckin hilarious_

_(802): Would that I were. The poor cow was traumatized.  
As were the brakes of my car, unfortunately._

_(301): cows r tougher than they look  
u ok?_

_(802): Amused, more than anything else.  
Are you enjoying Burlington?_

_(301): back in dc now  
barely warmer here tbh_

_(802): That's unfortunate. Have you considered migrating south for the winter?_

_(301): lee wont let me the bastard  
hes my boss_

_(802): The same Lee whose house you broke into?_

_(301): the one and only  
we have a very special relationship_

_(802): I can only imagine._

_(301): point is_  
_fuck winter_  
_ & every useless state north of the goddamn mason dixon_

**(January 30)**

7:18 pm, EST

_(301): tampa fl on the other hand  
_ _not too shabby this time of year_

_(802): What on earth are you doing in Florida?_

_(301): eating cuban food mostly  
and drinking STRONG ass coffee_

_(802): This late? Won't that keep you up all night?_

_(301): lmao my days just startin dude_  
_here for work actually_  
_lee got me a case down where its actually warm_  
_hashtag blessed or whatever the fuck the kids are saying now_

_(802): ..._  
_Are you serious?_  
_You are. Incredible._

_(301): what like ur any better w/ the lingo_  
_mr proper punctuation_  
_WHO USES SEMICOLONS IN TEXTS_

_(802): I do. You're welcome._

_(301): un fuckin believable_

_(802): Mmm. Regardless, enjoy the night shift; I have papers to grade. First of the semester, always a disaster.  
Also, not Mr._

_(301): oops_  
_miss? ms?_  
_thought abdel was a dude name_

_(802): Traditionally. But half the reason I finished my dissertation was so that I could be rid of arbitrary gender markers.  
Doctor is neutral._

_(301): ur a giant nerd holy shit_  
_DR proper punctuation then_  
_go grade ur papers. i gotta get ready for my shift anyway_  
_at least sunsets later this far south. little less time for things to go wrong_  
_twilight takes forever tho_

_(802): ??  
Does your job depend on the daylight?_

_(301): more often then i like_  
_than_  
_ah SHIT gotta go didnt even get to wait for sunset_

_(802): Are you alright?_

_(301): generally_

**(January 31)**

2:01 am, EST

_(301): changed my mind_  
_fuck fl_  
_whole damn states a liminal space  
_ _aint got time for this shit_

7:06 am, EST

_(802): What the hell, Shawn?_

_(301): fuckin EXACTLY_


	2. (february)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which things get ~spooky~

**(February 4)**

9:37 am, EST; 6:37 am, PST

 _(802): My bus this morning is stuck in a horrendous traffic jam because SOMEHOW in all this time, Vermonters have never learnt how to drive on fresh snow.  
_ _Mornings like this, I envy your seemingly glamorous jet-setting lifestyle._

 _(301): abdel. dude._  
_im in california_  
_its 630 in the fuckin morning_  
_i got off shift like 30 min ago_

_(802): Glamorous indeed.  
Go to sleep._

_(301): I WAS TRYING_

2:14 pm, EST; 11:14 am, PST

 _(301): sry dude it was just way too early for me to deal_  
_also how could yall forget to drive in snow????  
_ _is there ever NOT snow in ur godforsaken state?????_

_(802): I'll have you know that we do, in fact, have four fully differentiated seasons in New England:  
Almost winter, winter, still winter, and construction._

_(301): u live in hell_

_(802): I'll try not to take it personally._

**(February 5)**

6:07 am, EST; 3:07 am, PST

 _(301): also i d_ _ont jetset dude  
_ _who the fuck even says that_

8:02 am, EST; 5:02 am, PST

_(802): Your sleep schedule is worrisome_

_(301): sleep schedules are for squares_

**(February 7)**

11:48 am, EST; 9:48 am, MST

 _(301): whats ur gender like anyway_  
_i mean_  
_if ur not mr or ms_  
_sorry is that offensive_  
_shit it def is_

12:26 pm, EST, 10:26 am, MST

 _(802): My apologies; I didn't respond because I had a class._  
_Honestly, I think that's my favorite way I've ever been asked that question.  
_ _My gender is a fluid and uselessly complicated thing, mostly. But if I had to put words to it, I tend toward "genderqueer" and use singular they for pronouns._

_(301): huh  
neat_

_(802): Maybe that should be my gender identifier._  
_Are you a man or a woman?_  
_I'm neat._

_(301): sorry_

_(802): Shawn, I laugh about my gender all the time. You're welcome to laugh with me._

_(301): thanks  
what r u teaching today?_

_(802): It's an undergraduate Media Studies course about cultural trends in speculative fiction.  
Called "Star Trek vs. Dystopian SciFi: How Speculative Fiction Reflects Cultural Zeitgeist."_

_(301): what the fuck_

_(802): I am, as you have previously noted, a giant nerd._

_(301): you can take college classes on that shit?????_  
_thats fuckin amazing_  
_holy shit i totally shoulda gone to college and just studied fuckin star trek_

_(802): You never went?_

_(301): nah dude_  
_im a high school dropout didnt even have my ged til i was_  
_what idk_  
_25?  
and then only cuz lee made me so i qualified for the job_

_(802): What were you doing until then, without your diploma?  
Actually, what do you do now?_

_(301): used to freelance  
now get paid_

_(802): How reassuringly specific of you._

_(301): would u believe me if i said it was classified?_

_(802): Probably not, no._

_(301): well there u go_

**(February 12)**

6:41 am, EST; 5:41 am, CST

_(301): if u had to sort urself into a harry potter house what would it be_

_(802): Shawn. It is not yet seven in the damn morning._  
_I haven't had coffee yet_  
_Why are you like this._

_(301): its important  
trust me pls_

_(802): Ravenclaw._

_(301): awesome that s what i thought  
wanna solve a riddle for me_

_(802): Fine._

_(301): it cannot be seen cannot be felt_  
_cannot be heard cannot be smelt_  
_is smelt even a word wtf_  
_anyway it lies behind stars and under hills_  
_and empty holes it fills_  
_it comes first and follows after_  
_ends life kills laughte_ r

_(802): Dark or darkness._

_(301): what_  
_riddles make no goddamn sense_  
_thank you_

_(802): You don't even need to be a Ravenclaw for that one, just someone who's read The Hobbit one too many times._

8:12 am, EST; 7:12 am, CST

 _(301): ur fuckin kidding me  
_ _that fucker cheated  
_ _are sphinxes allowed to do that????_

_(802): Having never met one, I can't reliably say._

_(301): i mean i get ryunning out of riddles after a couple thousand years_  
_running_  
_but like_  
_plagerism is bad across species imo_

_(802): I'm fairly certain I agree with you, but  
Actually, I need more coffee before I can even pretend to comprehend this conversation._

_(301): how much coffee have you had so far today_

_(802): I've only just finished my first pot._

_(301): what the FUCK dude  
how much can u drink in a day???_

_(802): Don't ask questions you don't want to know the answers to._

**(February 13)**

12:01 pm, EST; 11:01 am, CST

_(802): What's you Hogwarts house then?  
your*_

_(301): gryffindor all the way  
aka, the house of hold my beer and watch this_

_(802): That is the best and most honest description of Gryffindors I think I've ever heard._

_(301): right_

_(802): And also explains so much about you._

_(301): hey_  
...  
_not sure if im insulted or not_

_(802): Take it as you will.  
But with your nomadic lifestyle, your casual approach to breaking and entering, and your ability to make friends with a wrong number all seem very Gryffindor-esque to me._

_(301): that was sweet  
wait are we officially friends now_

_(802): I should hope so.  
Meanwhile, I'm over here as your stereotypical ivory tower Ravenclaw. I enjoy research and teaching and learning about the most useless subjects possible and have never so much as left my home state._

_(301): back the fuck up  
youve never left vt??????_

_(802): No. Grew up in a more rural community south of Burlington, moved here for undergrad, stayed for grad, and coerced my department into hiring me on as an adjunct.  
Although my parents are beginning to talk of retiring to Florida, of all places. I'll probably be visiting them in a few years._

_(301): theres nothing in vt_  
_what do u even do_  
_fuckin christ_

 _(802): I've never had the inclination._  
_And I'm not a Gryffindor. I don't know_  
_I don't know how to leave my comfort zone._

 _(301): [photo of a rocky shoreline, stormy iron-gray water crashing white-capped against it]_  
_greetings from lake superior in northern minnesota_  
_live vicariously thru my dumb decisions_

_(802): I see Lee has stopped being kind in the locations of your assignments?_

_(301): its so cold here i think im dead and in hell already_

_(802): My sympathies.  
Thanks for the picture._

_(301): any time_

**(February 17)**

12:47 am, EST; 9:47 pm, PST

 _(301): [poor quality photo of a Starbucks, gray and rainy and lit by the camera flash]  
_ _greetings from the first ever starbucks in seattle wa  
_ _if ur living thru my travels i felt obligated  
_ _cause ur a fuckin caffeine addict_

_(802): Shawn, it's after midnight on the East Coast. Which is, if you'll recall, where I live._

_(301): shit sorry  
i always forget about time zones_

_(802): [well-lit photo of a cup of coffee, a stack of papers, and two red pens]_  
_Greetings from Dan's, Burlington's local 24-hour diner. Brought to you by my introductory communications seminar, Identifying Bias in Fiction Media._  
_Also my caffeine addiction is not nearly that bad._

_(301): dude_

_(802): I realize belatedly that this picture has done nothing to support this assertion._

_(301): kinda just proving my point abdel  
of course ur up drinking coffee after midnight_

_(802): Listen, these hours are nothing compared to what I was pulling in grad school. I'll be out of here by two.  
Dan himself just told me I must be getting old._

_(301): burn  
howd you repsond to that one_

_(802): I've informed him that I'm an old soul, and that, seeing as he's more than double my own 31 years, he ought to consider what that means for him._

_(301): harsh  
i like it_

_(802): Of course you do. How's the west coast treating you?_

_(301): on a stakeout so boring as fuck rn_  
_also its fuckin freezing_  
_like should it even still be able to rain its awful out here  
_

_(802): Better than Minnesota, though, I should hope?_

_(301): really low fuckin bar  
and barely_

_(802): We got another inch and a half of snow last night, and the high today was 28 F._

_(301): fuckin hell_  
_aw shit_  
_lights flickering gotta go shits about to go down_

_(802): I'm not sure I ever want to know what kind of stakeout you're on._

**(February 21)**

11:10 am, EST; 9:10 am, MST

 _(802): I'm rereading On the Road, and I thought of you.  
_ _Not entirely sure why, considering that Kerouac's narration is steeped so heavily in racism and misogyny it very nearly overpowers my enjoyment of the stream-of-consciousness prose._  
_I suppose it's just conceptually. The restless, searching tone._

 _(301): okay 1. u think too much_  
_2\. ur too academic for this world_  
_3\. i actually love that book so ur pretty much right on the money_  
_shit was formative as fuck when i first read it at like 15_

_(802): Of course you were reading the Beats as a teenager. Was this assigned reading?_

_(301): nah it was after i dropped out_  
_id just started traveling. picked up the book at a coffee place in connecticut_  
_one of those leave a book take a book things_  
_made me feel like i was part of a movement or something instead of raggedy ass runaway_

_(802): I'm sorry._

_(301): what for??_

_(802): Your teenage years seem to have been rough and rather lonely. I'm sorry that you had to go through that.  
I apologize if I've presumed too much._

_(301): nah your good it was a long time ago anyway_  
_comin up on 20 years since i first ran out_  
_and thanks_

 _(802): If you ever_  
_I know we don't actually know each other_  
_but_

 _(301): dont hurt urself abdel_  
_lol_  
_were good_  
_didnt peg you for a kerouac fan_

_(802): Subtle, you are not.  
I'm not, in general. I much prefer speculative fiction — science fiction and fantasy._

_(301): whats ur fave_

_(802): Octavia Butler and N.K. Jemison have to be my top choices._  
_But I also love Ann Leckie's Imperial Radch trilogy and have a weakness for YA fantasy like Maggie Stiefvater._  
_And Stephen King is my junk food._

_(301): ya?_

_(802): Young Adult._  
_One of my upcoming lessons is going to be about narrative, so I'm looking through some old favorites outside of my preferred genres to give as examples, which is how I ended up with Kerouac._  
_Do you have any favorite books or authors of the moment?_

 _(301): im big on shirley jackson_  
_talk about narration. she does unreliable narrator like nobody friggin else_  
_whatever i happen to pick up really_  
_i like old westerns_  
_also read all the twilight books. terrible but fun_

 _(802): I could write an academic paper about the Twilight novels and their many, many problems_  
_Oh wait. I have._  
_Twice._

_(301): lmao  
such a fuckin nerd jesus_

_(802): You're always throwing around these ridiculous accusations. I'm hurt and betrayed._

_(301): uh huh_

**(February 22)**

1:32 pm, EST; 12:32 pm, CST

_(301): how do u feel about kesha_

_(802): I try not to.  
Why?_

_(301): [audio message]_

_(802): I'm about to start a class; I'll listen later.  
However, know that if you sent me shitty pop music, there will be repercussions._

4:10 pm, EST; 3:10 pm, CST

_(802): Shawn, what is this?_

_(301): its kesha_

_(802): No, it's not.  
Unless it's a cover?_

_(301): did u know u can play kesha on acoustic guitar?_

_(802): I do now.  
It's...almost nice. I like the strangely apocalyptic imagery of what appears to be intended as dance music._

_(301): apocalyptic_  
_dude_  
_its fuckin kesha_  
_try not to overanalyze it_  
_like its called blow_  
_the music video has people wearing unicorn masks_

_(802): That's...disturbing.  
Who is this? I'm on my third listen-through and I've decided I like it._

_(301): lmfao_  
_very generous_  
_that's me u dumbass_

_(802): This is you?  
Singing this. This is you._

_(301): and playin the guitar  
dont forget that_

_(802): This is incredible._

_(301): dont bullshit me_  
_its not cute_  
_i dont need the flattery its just for fun_

 _(802): Shawn, I like you, but not enough to pretend to like deliberately bad pop music for you._  
_This is good. I'm very sincerely delighted._  
_Thank you for sharing this with me._

_(301): your an over emotional dweeb_

_(802): Says the man who just sent me a recording of himself singing._

**(February 23)**

6:42 pm, EST

_(802): Have you ever seen Buffy the Vampire Slayer?_

_(301): no_  
_that sounds really dumb_  
_no offense_

 _(802): You blaspheme, sir._  
_I'm asking because I spent all of last night listening my way through Ke$ha's discography. Her most recent album is surprising and beautiful and EMOTIONALLY DEVASTATING._  
_Thus, you need to be punished. I'm trying to think of something I can recommend you that begins as trashy fun and then rips your guts out and stomps on your heart._

 _(301): that_  
_is not a good way to recommend things_  
_the fuck dude_  
_also im glad u like kesha i feel weirdly triumphant now_

 _(802): Yes, yes, bask in your victory, you monster._  
_But Buffy is a television series from the late 90s, early 2000s. Urban fantasy, began as an experiment in turning the blonde-cheerleader-dies-first trope on its head. Said blonde cheerleader instead is destined to slay vampires and fight evil._  
_Campy effects, and Whedon's "feminism" leaves much to be desired_  
_Joss Whedon is the writer/creator_  
_But overall, a very, very good show._  
_Also, a significant portion of my master's thesis was written on Buffy, and it played a role in my dissertation as well._

_(301): still cant believe u basically have a dr in watching tv_

_(802): I'm amazing like that, yes._

**(February 24)**

10:01 am, EST

 _(301): just picked up a copy of the shining  
_ _like it so far_

_(802): One of my favorites, actually.  
I tend to like early Stephen King better than his mid-90s to early 00s stuff._

_(301): lmao of course u have opinions on different eras of stephen king_

_(802): Honestly, when do I not have opinions?_

_(301): yeah yeah  
its definitely making this paperwork go faster_

_(802): How on earth could reading make paperwork faster?_

_(301): using it as motivation_  
_i finish notes writeup for 1 case i read 1 chapter_  
 _etc_  
 _currently on ch 3_

_(802): Do I want to ask how large your backlog of paperwork is?_

_(301): consider the un fucking godly noises lee was making about it earlier  
probably not_

_(802): Well, enjoy._  
_And try not to give Lee a coronary or a stroke._  
 _I find I have some sympathy for him if he has to manage you._

_(301): dont  
he doesnt deserve it_

**(February 25)**

10:27 pm, EST

 _(Unknown Number):_ "I swear to fucking  _god_ , Lee, you owe me bigtime for this. Kelpies, Leland, it was  _fucking kelpies_. B-bastards dragged me in and almost drowned me, Christ."

 _(802):_ "Shawn? Is this...is this Shawn?"

 _(UN):_ "Who the fuck else, you asshole? Look, it's  _Michigan_ in  _February_ and I just got dragged into  _fucking_  Lake Michigan by a shape-shifting horse fucker that, by the way, managed to sabotage my  _fucking_ truck before it got me! So can we stop fucking around and fast forward to the part where you send someone to pick me up before I d-die of hyp-p-pothermia?"

 _(802):_ "Shawn, I'm — I'm afraid you've misdialed again. This is Abdel."

 _(UN):_ [prolonged silence] _  
_"Ah, f-f-fuck. Sorry, dude. It's a six, not a nine, fucking f-fuck."

 _(802):_ "Do you need an, an ambulance or something? I can hear your teeth chattering from several states away."

 _(UN):_ "I've g-gott-tt-tta call Lee —"

 _(802):_ "Shawn —"

 _(UN):_ "— let him know...Shit, can we just forget about the p-part with the kelpies?"

 _(802):_ "Yes, fine, if that's what you want. Do you need medical assistance?"

 _(UN):_ "N-n-nah, just call Lee. Gott-t-ta nother quarter. 'Snice t-t-to hear your voice, 'bdel."  
[dial tone]

10:31 pm, EST

_(802): I very much hope this message reaches Lee. My name is Abdel, and I think you need to know that Shawn is in some sort of urgent trouble in Michigan._

_(802)-1:_ "What kind of trouble?"

 _(802):_ "Leland, I presume. The kind with kelpies, although I've been told to forget about that part. He misdialed your number from a payphone, I think, and got me instead. But Lee, he's in Michigan and he's soaked to the bone. I could  _hear_ him shivering over the phone, and if he doesn't receive immediate medical attention he's probably going to get hypothermia and —"

 _(802)-1:_ "Calm your tits, Abdel. Sending a car now, I know where he is."

 _(802):_ "Good. He can't die — he won't die, right?"

 _(802)-1):_ "He generally doesn't."  
[dial tone]

**(February 26)**

9:23 am, EST

 _(802): Are you alright?_  
_Perhaps you don't have a phone. You did say the kelpies had dragged you into a river._  
_Although I'm supposed to ignore the part about the kelpies._

12:02 pm, EST

_(802): Please let me know you're alive at the earliest opportunity._

**(February 27)**

8:13 am, EST

_(802): Is Shawn alright?_

_(802)-1: He'll live. He generally does._

_(802): I'm sure you intend that "generally" to be much less alarming than I'm finding it._

_(802)-1: Lose my number._

**(February 28)**

2:36 pm, EST

 _(301):_ "You've reached the voicemail of Special Agent Shawn Strange. If this is an emergency, you can reach my supervisor at (301) 555 0817. Otherwise, leave a message after the tone."

 _(802):_ "Dammit, Shawn, pick up your phone."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so time is fake and I'm obsessed with Kesha's new album, Rainbow, and I just had to include it here. thus, assume this whole thing takes place in like 2018.


	3. (march)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shawn watches Buffy and has Opinions about its realism

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> not sure if I made this clear in the last chapter, but unitalicized, quoted dialogue is spoken over phone call.

**(March 4)**

4:13 pm, EST; 3:13 pm, CST

_(301): so buffy is def my fave_  
_xanders a little shit i hope he dies_  
_nearly pissed myself laughing at their version of werewolves  
_ _thats not what they look like_

5:56 pm, EST; 4:56 pm, CST

_(301): what the shit_  
_is faith gay for buffy  
_ _this is gay holy shit_

7:02 pm, EST; 6:02 pm, CST

_(301): dammit abdel  
_ _u cant tell me to watch this show nda then not FUKCING RESPOND_

_(802): I apologize, I've been attempting the math of how you've managed to watch three seasons of television in a week and also, ah yes  
WHERE THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN_

_(301): uh_  
_not dead?_  
_sorry_  
_seriously abdel sorry. i was in the hospital for 3 days_  
_where i started watching buffy_  
_and then i had to get a new phone and get my old # back and get the damn thing magicked for secure govt purposes or whatever_  
_which took forever cuz lelands dumb ass didnt tell mandy it was for me and she lives to spite him these days_  
_whatever the point is i didnt have a phone til like 2 hours ago_  
_so yeah_  
_look how not dead i am!_

_(802): I truly, viscerally hate you sometimes.  
Just so as you're aware._

_(301): uh huh_

**(March 5)**

10:07 am, EST; 9:07 am, CST

_(301): srsly tho abdel talk to me about b uffy  
_ _buffy  
_ _whats happenin with faith  
_ _ARE THEY FRIDGING MY FAVORITE FUCKIN CHARACTER  
_ _also fuck angel  
_ _love how sunnydale suddenly has a college just in time for buffy to go_

_(802): For goodness sake, Shawn, I am IN CLASS._

_(301): so get off ur phone what r u doing  
so irresponsible_

12:32 pm, EST; 11:32 am, CST

_(802): a) I despise you.  
_ _b) Have you torn a hole in space-time in order to consume so much television at once?  
_ _c) Actually, don't answer that question. I begin to fear you know people capable of exactly that.  
_ _d) If you're invested in Faith's character arc, I highly recommend Angel the Series. And it's also a wonderful show. Cordelia is my favorite, personally._

_(301): noted_  
_but seriously why have you done this to me_  
_im in my motel dredging up forums from like 15 fuckin years ago_

_(802): Do you actually have a home? And if so, shouldn't you be there recovering rather than in a motel room in what is presumably still Michigan?_

_(301): im trying to take offense to that but like_  
_im p focused on the episode w tara and willow doin cool magic_  
_but yes i have a home_  
_technically_  
_like i have a permanent address_  
_apt in dc_  
_just am almost never there_  
_also lee is keeping me in michigan til i send him all my paperwork_

_(802): I'm concerned about your job security given the apparent state of your paperwork._

_(301): nah lee cant fire me  
ive got a very specific skill set_

_(802): That sounds like a line from some spy thriller._

_(301): not too far off tbh_

_(802): Well, at least paperwork can't drag you into a Great Lake and give you hypothermia_

_(301): dont forget the broken ribs_

_(802): You hadn't mentioned those previously. Dammit, Shawn. Can you please stay in one piece?_

_(301): im doing my best dude  
doing my damn best_

**(March 6)**

9:12 pm, EST, 8:12 pm CST

_(802): Did you know that, in most original Eastern European lore, vampires were bloated, ruddy corpses?  
_ _In fact, it wasn't until Stoker published Dracula at the end of the 19th century that the image of the suave, wealthy, sophisticated gentleman vampire came into vogue._

_(301): dude_  
_wtf_  
_is this fun facts with abdel hour_

_(802): It's always Fun Facts with Abdel Hour.  
Also, you could tell if a corpse was or would become a vampire because, when the grave was opened, the left eye would be open._

_(301): thats fuckin gross  
why are u telling me this_

_(802): [picture of a very large coffee and a typed paper with more red pen markings than are usually called for] In an amusing turn of events, a student has cited my own work in a paper on vampires and sexuality._  
_Her focus is largely earlier than my work, though, focused on origins and the question of how we came to the modern interpretation._  
_My research and dissertation were about the highly sexualized vampire of the twentieth century onward._

_(301): jesus christ  
ur making more nerds just like you_

_(802): In any case, I had forgotten how viscerally disgusting early vampire lore is, and was compelled to share.  
You're welcome._

_(301): ugh ur the worst_  
_and modern shit is closer to true from what ive heard_  
_although they dont do the face thing like on buffy_  
_and i don't think any real vamps are as angsty as angel_

_(802): I would expect not. It would hardly be dignified._

**(March 8)**

12:01 pm, EST

_(301): [photo of Faneuil Hall, dusted with a fresh layer of snow] greetings from boston ma!_

_(802): Ah, back in the frigid climes of New England, are we?_

_(301): un fuckin fortunately  
is it ever NOT WINTER HERE_

_(802): Well, as of the 20th or so of this month, we should enter the season of "still winter," which should result in warming temperatures and emerging greenery in another month or so._

_(301): thanks for the climate lesson dr abdel_

_(802): You're very welcome._

8:58 pm, EST

_(802): Awad.  
__My last name. It's Dr. Abdel Awad._  
_Since I know your full name and title, Special Agent Shawn Strange._

_(301): strange isnt my real last name_

_(802): Really? It's terribly apt._

_(301): well shawn mclaughlin is legally dead  
so strange will have to do_

_(802): I like the sound of Shawn McLaughlin.  
But I admit that I prefer the version of you that's not dead._

_(301): thanks for that btw_  
_calling lee_  
_kinda passed out after i hung up on you so_  
_u kinda saved my life_

_(802): Anytime._  
_Although, will you promise me something?_

_(301): what?_

_(802): Refrain from taking anymore winter swims?  
Seeing as you're near a large body of water again._

_(301): yeah yeah asshole  
ill do my best_

**(March 11 & 12)**

11:46 pm, EST

_(301): do we have to have the talk?_

_(802): Excuse me?  
Since discussions of sexuality generally don't apply to me, I'm going to assume you're referring to something else entirely._

_(301): wtf is that supposed to mean_

_(802): That I'm asexual and a grown adult. What on earth are you talking about, is really the bigger question here._

_(301): yeah fair  
i meant the "monsters are real" talk_

_(802): Oh?  
I thought we were ignoring the near-death experience with the kelpies?  
Particularly the kelpie part._  
_And your knowledge of what "real" vampires are like_  
_And the plagiarizing sphinx_  
_And the flickering lights comments_  
_Are we not ignoring those things anymore?_

12:02 am, EST

_(301):_  "Listen, you said you did your dissertation of vampires and _Buffy_ , right?"

_(802):_  "If you're not aware, it's customary in most circles to greet each other with 'hello' or something similar."

_(301):_  "Oh my  _god_ , Abdel. Hi, hey, hello, how's it fucking going. Can you answer the damn question?"

_(802):_ "My primary research and writing has been on the evolution of sex and gender roles in vampire fiction from  _Dracula_ through  _Twilight_."

_(301):_ "Awesome. Okay. So like, you did a lot of research on vampires, right?"

_(802):_ "I'm not sure I like where this conversation is going."

_(301):_ "Humor me."

_(802):_ [heavy sigh] "Yes, Shawn. I spent literal years researching vampires across time, culture, and genre."

_(301):_ "Cool. Neat. Right. So if you had to kill one...?"

_(802):_ "If I had to kill a vampire." 

_(301):_ "Yep."

_(802):_ "Well, looking for common denominators across all of that...Fire and decapitation are the sure things. Stake would likely do the trick, and if it didn't the vampire would at least have a gaping hole in its chest."

_(301):_ "Fire and beheading, neat. I mean, that's pretty much standard, but I wanted to double check and you're the closest thing to an expert on vampires that I know."

_(802):_ "Expert. On vampires. Shawn, why is this important enough that we're on the phone after midnight?"

_(301):_ "Uh, about that. So, see." [extended pause] "I'm in Baltimore, and you wouldn't believe what monsters can get away with here. Cops just fuckin' shrug and spout something about drugs and don't bother to look to close at strange murders and disappearances – in  _certain parts of town_ , anyway – and now we've got a nest of vampires running around unchecked.  
"And I mean, I could probably get the information I need by spending a couple hours in the library, but ya know, it's closed right now and I'm sorta on a schedule here."

_(802):_ "Right. Right, okay. Care to tell me exactly  _why_ you're hunting vampires in Baltimore?"

_(301):_ "Well, Lee's temporarily barred me from work in the Midwest, at least until the Fae Courts calm down a bit about the whole kelpie thing. Which, you know, the Fair Folk can hold grudges for fuckin' ever, so I'll probably never have to go to Michigan again, which is neat."

_(802):_ "Okay, we're going to - to circle back to all of that, but for now let me try this again. Why are you  _hunting vampires?_ "

_(301):_ "Uh. It's my job?"

_(802):_ "Run that one by me again, if you please."

_(301):_ "It's my job. Like, what I do for a living. The government pays me to go out and hunt the things that go bump in the night. It's like the X-Files without aliens. Sort of. Listen, can you help me kill a vampire over the phone or not?"

_(802):_ "For you, Shawn, I will do my best. What do you need?"

_(301):_ "Sweet, you're my favorite. Okay, so fire and beheading, sure things. Holy water, religious iconography, garlic — how likely is any of that shit to work?"

_(802):_ "Well, considering the recent study with the leeches, I'd say garlic will actually have the opposite of its intended effect and might actually attract rather than repel them. Religious artifacts — probably, especially if yours are the post-Dracula variety. Which you've said they should be, yes?"

_(301):_ "It's what I've heard from other folks in the biz."

_(802):_ "Of course it's a  _biz_. Of course." [deep breath] "Right. Well, at the very least you should invest in a silver cross. If the Christianity doesn't hold them off, the silver should."

_(301):_ "Yeah, I figured. Already got one of those."

_(802):_ "Of course, how silly of me. They must be essential in your line of work."

_(301):_ "I'm sensing sarcasm, but that thing is dead useful. Pun wholeheartedly intended."

_(802):_ "Thanks for that. One last suggestion, if you don't mind. Sunlight, possibly any full-spectrum lighting. Any ability to survive sunlight seems to be a recent invention of young adult authors who want their incredibly angsty century-old vampires to go to high school and date teenagers. So at the very least, survive until sunrise and you should be alright."

_(301):_ "Yeah, don't worry about me." [laugh] "Surviving 'til sunrise is a specialty of mine."

_(802):_ "Oh yes why wouldn't it be. Is that a job requirement? Do you put that on your resume when you apply for things like this?"

_(301):_ "Dude, you're getting kind of hysterical."

_(802):_ "I'm sorry, that tends to happen when one of my friends casually calls in the middle of the night to tell me he's  _hunting vampires!_ "

_(301):_ "Seriously, Abdi, do we need to have the Talk?"

_(802):_ "I think I've got the gist of it. I ought to let you go now, or I'll keep you until the sun comes up."

_(301):_ "Yeah, time's of the essence or whatever here. Thanks for your help, dude. I mean it."

_(802):_ "Yes, I —" [deep breath] "Please don't die."

_(301):_ "Dude, I do this for a living, I can handle myself. I promise."

_(802):_ "Shawn."

_(301):_ [sigh] "Yeah, yeah. I won't die. In fact, I'll, uh, how'd you phrase it? Let you know I'm alive at the earliest opportunity."

_(802):_ "You're an asshole."

_(301):_ "Hey, that's my line! I'll talk to you later, Abdel."

[dial tone]

 


	4. (march, ii)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in which I project many of my own feelings about the Midwest onto my characters

**(March 12)**

7:36 am, EST

_(301): im alive  
_ _and totally intact all my limbs and everything  
_ _same canNOT be said for vampires  
_ _ganked those fuckers real good  
_ _except 1 of them & i should tell lee bout that since she kept monologuing about the damn apocolypse  
_ _do you know how tired i am of apocalypses_

_(802): Do they happen often?_

_(301): i mean not really i guyess?  
_ _guess  
_ _but ive already done 1 almost apocalypse  
_ _and thats like 3 rtoo many  
_ _too  
_ _im tired sorry_

_(802): Your math astounds me.  
_ _I imagine you are, given that you've been up all night fighting monsters. Go to bed._

_(301): yeah yeah whatever_

_(802): I'm glad you're alive. Thank you for letting me know._

**(March 13)**

9:30 am, EST

_(802): Okay, I am belatedly coming to the conclusion that I need more explanation.  
_ _I have questions.  
_ _So very many questions._

_(301): ok shoot_

_(802): First, you don't...actually work for the government, do you?_

_(301): yeah dude  
_ _fbi_

_(802): Please tell me you're fucking with me._

_(301): haha u said a swear  
_ _also no im not  
_ _hence the special agent title  
_ _got a badge and everythin  
_ _its real too_

_(802): As opposed to...?_

_(301): the uh  
_ _forged one? i used to have?  
_ _when i was freelancing_

_(802): Freelance monster hunting._

_(301): yep.  
_ _needed to be done_

_(802): How long?  
_ _How long have you been doing this?_

_(301): for the feds?  
_ _about 10 yrs i think  
_ _hunting though since i was 15  
__20 yrs next month_

_(802): Fuck._

_(301): its hilarious how upset you are rn  
_ _not gonna lie_

_(802): Why do you keep doing this?  
_ _There have to be  
_ _How do you_

_(301): u ok there?_

_(802): FIFTEEN?_

_(301): yeah_

_(802): Why? How did you even begin?  
_ _Did you wake up one morning and think, you know what? I bet monsters are real.  
__Did you take a career aptitude test and your results just said, Van Helsing?_

_(301): abdel  
_ _as much as i appreciate your semi hysterical humor approach to the whole thing  
__let me give you some advice  
__never ask a hunter how they started  
__just dont_

_(802): My apologies._  
_If you've been doing this for nearly two decades, I imagine you've ahh_  
_Seen a lot of shit_  
_If you will._

_(301): oh i will_  
_lmao_  
_and i have_

_(802): Makes me wonder how accurate the contents of my research have been._

_(301): more than youd think tbh  
like theres some surprisingly accurate shit out there _

_(802): Well, how was my first go of it? Was my information accurate?  
Rather, how were you able to vanquish the vampires? _

_(301): vanquish jesus h christ_  
_yeah dude u were a huge help_  
_beheaded 2 burned 1 up_  
_blinded 3rd w holy water that was a surprise_  
_it burned him like acid_  
_like his skin was smoking it was freaky_  
_last 1 i got with a stake to the heart_  
_took 2 tries tho_

_(802): I'm not sure whether to be impressed (and possibly proud?) or utterly horrified by this conversation_

_(301): excuse the fuck outta u_  
_be impressed_  
_obviously_

_(802): Oh, well, in that case_

_(301): also did u know that vamps actually turn to dust when they die????_  
_just like in buffy_  
_mad fuckin cool_

_(802): Aaaaand we're back to horrified._

_(301): whatever dude_  
_u know its awesome_  
_thanks btw_

_(802): ?_

_(301): for being my emergency vampire expert the other night_

_(802): Anytime, Shawn._

**(March** **14)**

10:01 pm, EST

_(802): I think I found a description of your department:  
_ _"Because sometimes, things happen that can't be rationalized in a conventional manner. People want to know that their government has a response."  
_ _You are that response._

11:18 pm, EST

_(301): how FUCKING DARE YOU  
_ _YOU COME INTO MY HOME  
_ _AND START QUOTING IRON GIANT AT ME  
_ _WHAT THE FUCK ABDEL I THOUGHT WE WERE FRIENDS_

_(802): I'd apologize but I'm too busy cackling_

_(301): ur the worst_

**(March 16)**

12:43 pm, EST; 11:43 am, CST

_(802): [shaky phone video of Lake Champlain, as seen from the bow of a ferry] Greetings from Champlain, NY!_

_(301): dude_  
_dude_  
_DUDE_  
_HOLY SHIT HAVE YOU LEFT VT?????_

_(802): I did indeed._  
_Although I must admit, I did not expect so nearly violent a reaction._  
_The only thing I did was take a ferry. I've barely moved a few miles from my city._

_(301): yeah but u left the state  
what made u decide to do it?_

_(802): Nothing in particular, really.  
I don't know, perhaps I thought it'd be nice to send you a picture of something other than boring old Burlington, cows and all._

_(301): tp be fair i only send pics of the interesting stuff myself_  
_[gritty, dark cell phone picture of a midday construction-zone traffic jam under a bridge on I-70]_  
_greetings from columbus oh for example_  
_where i;m current;y parked under a bridge_  
_seriously abdi_  
_PARKED_

_(802): Good grief_

_(301): im stuck here under this damn bridge overpass whatever & can only get 1 radio station_  
_AND IT JUST STARTED PLAYING CELINE DION_  
_FUCK ME_  
_I AM LITERALLY IN HELL_

_(802): Good grief. I'm sorry for your loss._  
_Although_  
_It could be worse_

_(301): how_  
_how abdi_  
_give me ONE way this could possibly be worse_

_(802): [photo of the village of Champlain, NY as it generally appears in March; which is to say, covered in snow]  
_

_(301): true_  
_could be snowing_  
_u win this round_

_(802): Thank you._

_(301): traffic moving again ttyl_

**(March 17)**

8:32 am, EST; 7:32 am, CST

_(301): dude  
_ _y is the midwest like this_

_(802): Like what, exactly?_

_(301): like_  
_fake nice_  
_im in minne-fucking-sota AGAIN_  
_and the passive agressiveness is KILLING ME_

_(802): Oh dear.  
Is that some sort of cultural thing?_

_(301): YES_  
_they call it minnesota nice_  
_and half the time its sarcastic_  
_like im from the south and ive said my fair share of condescending bless your hearts_  
_and even i think this is fucked up_

_(802): "Bless your heart" is a bad thing?_

_(301): oh honey_  
_jesus im becoming the southern mom i always feared_  
_my mom was never like that mind u_  
_but my gramma was_  
_but anyway yeah dude_  
_bless yer heart is like_  
_fondly condescending_  
_like_  
_oh child you are naive and foolish and i feel kinda bad about it but also kinda smug_

_(802): That is a lot of meaning behind three little words._

_(301): thats just one meaning_

_(802): Goodness. And yet Minnesota is worse somehow?_

_(301): INTERESTING IS A BAD THING  
AND NO ONE TOLD ME_

_(802): ??_

_(301): to call something interesting is an insult  
so im p sure the guy at the mn office thinks im the biggest negative nancy ever_

_(802): Poor Shawn_

_(301): ur being sarcastic_  
_but i dont care_  
_WHAT THE FUCK IS AN OOFDA_

_(802): Pardon?_

_(301): some sort of swear? exclamation? an angry wow? i dont understand_

10:38 am, EST; 9:38 am, CST

_(301): ok i figured out uffda_  
_which is apparently how to spell it  
_ _it must have been invented to have some sort of reaction to[tater tot hot dish](https://www.google.com/search?q=tater+tot+hotdish&oq=tater+&aqs=chrome.2.69i57j0l5.2311j0j7&sourceid=chrome&ie=UTF-8)_

_(802): Tater tot what now?_

_(301): hot dish_  
_it means casserole_

_(802): They make a casserole out of tater tots?_  
_Please tell me you're joking._  
_Please_  
_I just googled it and you're not._  
_I'm going to leave this planet._

_(301): exactly_

_(802): I am now much sorrier for your current predicament  
What sort of monster/haunt has you in Minnesota? I thought you'd said you were temporarily banned from the Midwest._

_(301): apparently the court with the whole kelpie shit doesnt extend this far_  
_and lee lives to punish me_  
_theres a nasty poltergeist fucking with college kinds in bemidji_

_(802): If it's harassing them into turning in their papers on time, I'd leave well enough alone._

_(301): being a prof has made u evil_  
_but no its wrecked a couple computer labs and torn apart some fuckin  
_ _idk buncha old books or something_  
_shreds papers deletes backups generally causing hell_

_(802): Well in that case, do away with it._

_(301): lmao of course  
thats the plan_

**(March 18)**

11:44 am, EST; 10:44 am, CST

_(802): How does one get rid of a poltergeist, anyway?_

_(301): very fucking carefully_  
_nasty fuckers_  
_burn a lot of sage maybe some cedar_  
_sometimes it pisses them off when you chant in latin_  
_or just like_  
_throw salt at them and ask them to please gtfo_

_(802): Ah yes, carefully  
Sounds very precise and professional_

_(301): ahh shut up  
i generally survive this shit_

_(802): I'm sure you mean that 'generally' to be far less alarming than it actually is._

_(301): sure?_

_(802): Dammit Shawn_

_(301): :):):)_

**(March 20)**

2:56 am, EST

_(301): got a trail i been waiting for. have to take this chance might be the last one i get. cant let it track me and cant let you stop me. turning off my phone until its safe. lee dont try to fuckin gps me or i;ll smash every damn ward youve ever put on me. abdi just try not to worry too much_

_(802)-1: Dammit Strange_   
_You had better not be talking about what I think you are_   
_You have a goddamn federal job and responsibilities_

_(802): Shawn, are you okay?_  
_Do you need help?_  
 _Leland, what is he talking about?_

_(802)-1: Strange I'll cover for you as long as I can  
Awad. Lose. This. Number._

_(802): The group text makes that difficult, you ass. What the HELL, Shawn??_

**(March 21)**

3:06 pm, EST

_(802): I hope you're alright  
_ _Please let me know you're alive at the earliest opportunity_

**(March 23)**

5:12 pm, EST

_(802): Leland seems to be under the impression that you are on some foolhardy and highly fatal mission, but has also told me not to worry since you 'generally survive these things'  
_ _One of these days, one of you will have to explain that_

**(March 24)**

6:13 am, EST

_(802): It's snowing again this morning. I was just beginning to think that there was a chance I'd see spring soon, but I know better than to hope for things like that._

9:52 am, EST

_(802): [cell phone picture of Church Street in Burlington, VT; shop signs charmingly dusted with snow, streets slightly less charmingly covered in slush] No matter what boots I wear, my feet always end up soaked and frozen in this nonsense.  
I hope that, wherever you are, it's warmer than Burlington._

**(March 26)**

9:17 pm, EST

_(802): It's open mic night at Dan's, and there's a young man here who I've seen performing before, busking on Church St. He just played a beautifully haunting cover of Carly Rae Jepsen's "Call Me Maybe." I think you would appreciate it on principle alone._

**(March 27)**

11:48 pm, EST

_(802): Have you ever read the Matthew Swift novels?  
_ _Kate Griffin is the author  
_ _I'd really like to hear your thoughts on her take on city magicks  
_ _and especially the electric angels_

**(March 28)**

1:01 pm, EST

_(802): I imagine you'll be irritated when you finally reconnect your phone and find yourself inundated with these inane texts. However, I find I don't care. Texting you reminds me to keep the hope that one of these times you'll text back._

**(March 29)**

7:20 pm, EST

_(802): I'm re-watching Buffy while grading papers and realizing that we never did get the chance to really talk about it. Now that I know there are "slayers" in the world, I'm desperate to know your opinion._

11:10 pm, EST

_(802): I tire of midterms. Reading variations on the same tired assumptions and pseudo-intellectual, self-congratulatory bullshitting is simply more than I want to deal with at the moment.  
_ _I'm afraid I'm in a bit of a foul mood. Not enough coffee or not enough kindness; something is lacking in my days recently.  
_ _I hope you're having a better day than I._

**(March 30)**

1:32 am, EST

_(802): I sometimes envy your demons. Dangerous as they may be, they're tangible. They're something you can fight and destroy. The things that haunt me are...not._

8:58 am, EST

_(802): I apologize for my melancholy and melodrama of last night._

**(March 31)**

4:22 am, EST

_(802): Whenever I go out, I look for you in the crowd. I half expect to turn a corner, and there you'll be. You'll just  
_ _Be here.  
_ _In the middle of Burlington.  
_ _With a grin on your face and your hands in your pockets – I somehow doubt that you wear a suit like FBI agents do in the movies.  
_ _And somehow...I'll just know it's you.  
_ _Please be okay._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I live in Minnesota, and "Minnesota nice" is a real thing and also literally a nightmare. Like, the day I moved in, a stranger greeted someone else on my street with, "Hey, neighbor" in all seriousness. Strangers look me in the eye on the street. "Interesting" actually means "terrible" and when you're a guest in someone's home, you're not supposed to accept food/drink/refreshments the first two times they're offered. "That's fine" means both yes and no and even three years into this adventure, I CANNOT TELL WHEN IT MEANS WHICH.  
> Also yes, tater tot hot dish is a real thing.


	5. (april)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> how long can Abdel really hold up a one-sided conversation with someone they've never actually met? WHO KNOWS!!  
> and we'll never find out because Shawn manages to pick up his phone this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heads up: some relatively graphic description of violence.

**(April 2)**

1:46 pm, EST

_(802): Please be alive._

**(April 5)**

4:42 am, EST; 2:42 am, MST

_(301): "_ Hey, Abdi."

_(802):_ "Shawn? Shawn, oh my god, Shawn you're alive thank — I'm so — Are you okay?"

_(301):_ "Slow down there, dude." [weak chuckle, followed by wet, rasping cough] "'m kinda bleedin'. Kinda e'erywhere."

_(802):_ "What? Where are you? Is there anyone there, have you called an ambulance?"

_(301):_ "Twenty years. It'll be twen'y  _fucking_ years next week."

_(802):_ "Dammit Shawn, answer me!"

_(301):_ "Took me twenty years t'kill the bastard, but I did it! Did it."

_(802):_ "Screw this, I'll call the ambulance myself. Shawn, though I doubt I could stop you — keep talking."

_(802): GPS Shawn NOW. He's on with me but won't answer any questions._  
_He's hurt. Bad.  
_ _Says he's bleeding, and I quote, kinda everywhere._

_(802)-1: Fuck  
Keep him on the line._

_(301):_ "Wanna know wha's funny, though? Didn't bring 'em back. Didn't do a damn bit of good."

_(802):_ "Shawn? What happened?"

_(802)-1: He's in Montana_  
_Ambulance is on its way  
_ _Keep him on the line_

_(301):_ "Never tol' you, did I? Jus' yelled at you fer askin'."

_(802):_ "Told me what?"

_(301):_ "How it all started. The huntin'. April 12th, twen'y years ago, demon came t' my house. I was fifteen. Came home from school jus' in time to see the fuckin' thing pull its claws outta Mom's gut."

_(802):_ "Oh, Shawn —"

_(301):_ "Can still smell the blood, y'know. Wake up a' night, can still smell it."

_(802):_ [muffled gasp, hitch of breath]

_(301):_ "Cops didn' believe me, course. Mean, three-eyed, twelve-clawed demon? Nah, jus' — jus' some guy with a knife. I's hysterical. Burglary gone wrong, they said.  
"But I knew. I knew.  
"Ran 'way after that. Didn' have nowhere t'go. Took Dad's truck an' Mom's cassette tapes — she had the weirdest taste in music, y'know? — my guitar, coupla things I couldn' leave. An' just left. I was fifteen and grievin' and so goddamn angry, Abdel. So goddamn angry. Wanted revenge. More'n anything, wanted revenge.  
"But it was smart, fucker that killed 'em. Smart an' old an' fuckin'  _powerful_. Chased after any strange thing I could find, lookin' for it. Learned how t'kill just 'bout everything else along the way. It'as almost a relief, y'know? That monsters are real. 'Cause they can be killed, if they're real."

_(802):_ "Oh, Shawn, that's awful, I — You said you caught up to it? You — you killed it, the thing that — that took your parents?"

_(301):_ "'s called a Fi'yeri demon. Or somethin' like that, can' say it right in English, 'pparently. Other hunters call 'em Reapers, 'cause they — you know why they kill people? Why that thing dragged it claws through my parents' bodies, why it — it left Mom's intestines on the kitchen floor? It's their fuckin'. Their fuckin'  _religion_.  
"It's all destiny, see? They kill people t'make sure destiny goes down okay, everythin' goes the way it _should_.  
"An', an' this fucker, he  _knew me_ , Abdi. Knew I was huntin' him, knew I'd catch 'im. Knew I'd kill him. Know what he told me, right 'fore I set him on fire for what he'd done? That the lives I've saved, the lives I will save, the work that I do — this huntin', this  _bullshit_ — that it's worth his life. Worth Mom and Dad's lives.  
"How fucked up is that, huh? Wha' do I care about other people, 'bout savin' the world? Burn it down myself, if it'd bring 'em back."

_(802):_ "I know you would, Shawn. I know."

_(301):_ "Knew I'd kill 'im, but didn't stop him from fightin' back. How's that for destiny, huh? The rest of us jus' have to — to accept it, an' he gets to claw me up on 'is way out? Smells like shit t'me.  
"Twenty years, Abdi. Twenty goddamn  _fuckin'_ years. An' they're still dead."

_(802):_ "But you're not. You're — you're still alive, Shawn. And that's something."

_(301):_ "Is it?"

_(802):_ "It is, it is, you're —"

_(301):_ "Saw your text messages. All two hunnert of 'em."

_(802):_ "I know, I'm —"

_(301):_ [distant sirens] "Missed you, too."

[dial tone]

9:32 am, EST

_(802):_   _Please let me know you're alive at the earliest opportunity._

10:08 am, EST; 8:08 am, MST

_(802)-1: He's out of the OR. It was a near thing, but they got to him in time.  
_ _Thank you._

**(April 7)**

5:15 pm, EST; 3:15 pm, MST

_(301): hey im alive  
_ _just talked them into givin me my phone back_

_(802): How are you feeling?_

_(301): like i got ripped into by a fuckcrazy fiyeri demon_  
_which makes sense_  
 _since thats what happened_

_(802): Where are you?_

_(301): course lee told them it was like a rabid dog or something idk_  
_maybe a wolf_  
 _they have those out here_  
 _wait what_  
 _im in the hospital dumbass_  
 _ur the one who called the ambulance remember_

_(802): Vividly.  
I meant where in the country, Shawn._

_(301): oh  
bozeman mt_

_(802): Isn't that near Yellowstone National Park?_

_(301): yup_  
_did u kno that!_  
 _yellowstone is hell-adjacent_  
 _its not all volcano down there_  
 _its at least 46% hell_

_(802): Fascinating.  
Well, it makes more sense than it doesn't, I suppose._

_(301): right?_  
_anyway just wanted to let u know im still here_  
 _nurse is back w more morphine_  
 _fuck yeah_  
 _so im gonna take another nap_

_(802): Alright.  
Sleep well, and a speedy recovery, hmm?_

_(301): yeah yeah_

_(802): And thank you for checking in._

_(301): i know you by now dude_

_(802): Yes, I suppose you do._

8:38 pm, EST; 6:38 pm, MST

_(802): See you soon._

**(April 8)**

11:59 am, MST

_(301): wtf abdi  
__abdel  
__what does that mean see me sson  
__soon_  
_god fucking dammit abdel_

4:12 pm, MST

_(802): I apologize for the delayed response. My phone was off; my flight just landed._

_(301): flight???  
where the fuck are you?????_

_(802): On my way to see you, you complete ass. Please have some patience while I rent a car._

_(301): YOU HAD BETTER BE FUCKING KIDDING ME AWAD_


	6. (april, face to face)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> warning: there are oblique references to being institutionalized for mental health/substance abuse reasons and a brief, fairly graphic description of near-fatal injuries.

As if the multiple airplane transfers and the time zone change and the 80 mile-per-hour Montana speed limit hadn't been disorienting enough, the hospital completed the feeling with sheer, overwhelming chaos. It had probably been a decade since Abdel was last in a hospital, and they'd been on rather a lot of drugs at the time. And thus far, being stone cold sober and not in the process of a nervous breakdown wasn't doing much improve the experience.

After asking half a dozen people for directions – in no small part because no one was speaking loudly enough to be heard clearly over the background bustle – Abdel found themself in a wing on the third floor (probably), filled with rather more nurses with tense expressions than was ultimately comfortable. The white walls and smell of antiseptic were doing nothing for their nerves; sense memory did not care how sane and sober Abdel was. Murmuring voices and conversations so full of medical jargon they may as well have been in another language entirely combined to make a low buzz of incomprehensible background noise, heightening their anxiety.

By the time they finally got the attention of the administrative type hunched over a computer at the information desk, Abdel was feeling strange, almost dizzy; misplaced in time.

"Strange, you said?" The administrator before them asked, a small frown appearing between her brows.

"Yes, Shawn Strange. He's a federal agent, some kind of – of animal attack."

"Ah, yes, that fellow." She said something in the general direction of her computer that Abdel didn't catch, but the tone was bitter. She must have read something in the raising of Abdel's eyebrows, because she rolled her eyes and clarified, "The nurses have been complaining about him all morning. General consensus is that he's a stubborn pain in the ass."

Abdel couldn't help but smile at that. "Yes, that sounds about right."

"Let me get ahold of the only nurse who's been able to handle him, and we'll get you in."

Five minutes of anxious fidgeting later, Abdel was approached by a rather large nurse wearing a rather large smile. The name tag pinned to his smiley-face patterned scrubs declared him to be  _MARK!_

"So sorry to have kept you waiting,"  _MARK!_ said (louder than anyone else had been so far, thankfully), though his smile didn't fade at all. Abdel had the sneaking (and slightly alarming) suspicion that  _MARK!_ normally worked in pediatrics. "Follow me, Agent Strange's room is just around the corner.

"It's a rather delicate case, you know,"  _MARK!_ continued cheerfully. "We have to be very discerning about who – or what! – goes into his room. Very strict instructions, you know, only you and Agent Leland allowed into the room until we're assured of a full recovery."

"How serious is it?" Abdel asked, alarmed. They were in a quieter wing now, one that seemed newer – the walls were whiter, and sometimes seemed to gleam in the corner of their eye. "Leland made it sound like he'd come out of surgery okay."

"Oh, he did,"  _MARK!_ assured them hurriedly. "And it's not that we're worried about whether he'll  _survive_ , you know, just whether he'll be permanently disabled – he ripped his stitches this morning, and that was a mess to clean up." And still, the smile hadn't faded. It was eerie. "But really, Fiyer'i demons are nasty things but I've never seen someone survive that they actually intended to kill, you know. So the fact that Agent Strange lived through the night is an almost sure sign of survival!"

Abdel stopped in their tracks. "Shawn said the hospital had been told it was an animal attack."

 _MARK!_ gave Abdel a slightly curious look at this, his smile dimming a watt or two. "Well yes, most of the staff are under that impression. But we can't leave someone without protection after an attack like this, you know. Most hospitals have a few nurses on staff that are in the know, as it were. We're needed to ward rooms and assess the patients' needs for more particular spellwork."

"That...makes more sense than it doesn't, I suppose," Abdel admitted, and began to walk again.

They'd only gone a few paces when  _MARK!_ announced, "Here we are!" and gestured into a curtained-off room to their right. "He's sleeping right now. About an hour ago he received a message that distressed him so much we had to take his phone away. And even then we had to sedate him! Too much negative energy can destabilize some of the more sensitive protective wards, you know."

That particular vocal tic,  _you know_ , was beginning to get on Abdel's nerves.

 _MARK!_ continued on obliviously. "I'm sure a familiar face will help him stay calm! Big help to his recovery, you know. Well, I'll leave you to it!"

Abdel decided not to ruin the nurse's impression that a, Abdel actually  _knew_ Shawn or that b, seeing Abdel would in any way comfort or calm Shawn when c, it was a fair bet that Abdel's texts had caused the recent hysterics in the first place.

That particular thought process possibly made less than perfect grammatical sense. But so be it. Abdel nodded a brief acknowledgement to their still alarmingly smiley escort and slipped past the thick white curtain into Shawn's room.

The room smelled strongly of rosemary, which clashed unpleasantly with the over-sanitized hospital smell. The strange shimmer of the walls was more noticeable here, and more than once Abdel thought they caught words or symbols glimmering at the edge of their vision. Over the hospital bed, someone had hung several bunches of dried herbs and a strange creation of thread woven around a small yellow-green stone. Despite the busyness of the hall, the room was dead silent once the curtain closed. The cumulative effect was strange, almost eerie. It was one thing, Abdel realized, to believe that your friend hunted monsters and dealt with magic in an abstract sort of way; it was another thing entirely to  _know_.

The hardest thing to see, to  _understand_ , however, was the sleeping figure in the bed. Shawn – it had to be Shawn – was on his back, wrapped in pristine white sheets, head and chest propped up with pillows. Leads from his chest ran to softly beeping machines, and there was one of those little oxygen clips on his index finger. An IV stand fed liquid in two different lines to his right arm. Abdel took a hesitant step forward, the floor creaking under their feet – but Shawn didn't wake. Sedated, they remembered.

Feeling slightly dazed, Abdel crossed the room and fell into the wobbly folding chair at Shawn's bedside. They couldn't seem to stop staring. And really, what else were they supposed to do? They'd flown most of the way across the country on an impulse, on the need to make sure the man on the other end of the phone was okay, was  _safe_. And said man had the gall to be unconscious when Abdel arrived.

Shawn Strange was tall, though it was hard to tell how tall when he was tucked into bed like this. White – pale, too – with a smattering of freckles under the bruises on his face. Auburn hair, going a bit grey at the temples. Or, probably; it was a bit difficult to tell with the stains of dried blood still in his hair above his right ear. His nose was broken and swollen, his left arm wrapped in bandages. His hospital gown sat oddly, in a way that suggested more bandages across his torso and abdomen ( _like I got ripped open by a fuckcrazy Fiyer'i demon_ ).

After nearly an hour of staring, Abdel had come to the conclusion that Shawn was probably stupidly handsome when not covered in bruises and his own blood. As it was, he was still handsome enough that it might yet become a problem.

When Shawn woke, it was with a prolonged, aching groan. He opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling, clenching and unclenching his good hand a few times. He winced a bit when he tried to move, and squeezed his eyes shut again.

"Look, dude," Shawn said after a moment. His voice was rough, hoarse; it sounded like his throat had been dragged across a grater. "I don't know who the fuck you are, but if you're not here with more morphine I really don't give a shit. Leave me alone."

"Yes, well," Abdel responded, a little shakily. "These aren't exactly the ideal circumstances I'd have liked to meet under either, but they're what we've got. It'll have to do."

Shawn's eyes shot open again and he nearly jumped out of his skin trying to sit up in bed too fast. He gave a sharp cry of pain, trying to grab his side with the hand still attached the the IV, and ended up collapsing backward again, this time with his face turned toward Abdel.

"Careful, or you'll pull your stitches again," Abdel warned. Internally, all they could think was,  _his eyes are green_. "I doubt even Leland's recommendation would convince the doctors to let me stay if that happened twice in one day."

"Abdi?" Shawn croaked. "Holy shit is that – are you – you can't – but you are, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you're trying to ask me, though if that's the morphine or just your usual eloquence I won't pretend to know."

Shawn laughed. Well, more of a huffing sigh, really, but he was grinning. "Yeah, that's definitely you, Abdel."

"Indeed," they agreed, watching cautiously as Shawn maneuvered himself very, very slowly and carefully into a sitting position. "How are you feeling?"

"Fuzzy, mostly. Look, just – why are you here?" Abdel was sure Shawn meant something along the lines of,  _it's so nice to meet you in person_ , but perhaps these things just worked better via telephone.

"Well," they said patiently. "You see, you went missing for nearly a month. A month, Shawn, and the only people you gave even a hint of your whereabouts were myself and your boss. And then,  _then_ , you had the audacity to call me instead of an ambulance when you were bleeding out. Seeing as this is the second time I've had to rescue you from near-fatal, supernaturally-induced injuries long distance, I thought I ought to check up in person to make sure you lived."

"I generally do," Shawn grumbled defensively. And really, someone  _needed to explain to Abdel what that meant_. Not now, however, because Shawn was staring at Abdel with the beginnings of a frown between his eyebrows, the one eye not swollen nearly shut with bruising squinting at them suspiciously. It was like Abdel was a puzzle, one Shawn couldn't quite solve. A potentially hostile puzzle. The kind likely to blow up in his face at any given moment. "But seriously, dude. You live clear across the fucking country. You don't like travel – shit, you've never even been on a plane before –"

"And it wasn't exactly a thrilling experience now. Terrifying, actually."

"And you don't even  _know_ me," Shawn continued, bowling right over Abdel's attempts at levity. "Not really. We're not – it's not your job to, to –" he broke off with a strangled, frustrated noise, glaring at Abdel as if his struggle to find words was their fault.

" _Why are you here?_ "

It was less like a question, this time. More a demand to  _go away_. It hit Abdel like a physical blow, just below their ribcage. They'd been wrong. They'd misunderstood, they'd acted the fool, they – what  _were_ they doing here, had they lost their mind completely? Shawn was right, they didn't know each other, and Shawn didn't want them here, didn't –

And then Abdel remembered that as Shawn lay dying, his mission of twenty years completed at last, Shawn had turned on his phone. Shawn had turned on his phone and read Abdel's text messages ( _all two hunnert of 'em_ ), and the last thing Shawn had done – the last, and he had known it, Abdel was sure, because Shawn may be an ass with no sense of self-preservation but he wasn't stupid – the last thing Shawn had done was call Abdel.

The last thing he'd said was,  _I missed you too_.

So instead of standing and leaving with a stiff apology, instead of feeling ashamed, instead of crawling back into the quiet and secluded den of their life and forgetting they'd ever heard of Shawn Strange, Abdel settled further into the creaking, wobbling folding chair. They looked Shawn dead in the eye and said, "Don't ask stupid questions."

Shawn blinked, once, twice. His defensive, suspicious expression fell into one of surprised innocence, his mouth hanging open slightly. Slowly, the corners of his mouth creeping upward at a snail's pace, he smiled. "Okay," he said, relaxing into his pile of pillows. "Okay."

 

This was so goddamned  _surreal_. Shawn was half convinced the world had actually ended when he'd killed the damned Fiyer'i, that he'd actually died. Because the world without his awful, single-minded mission seemed as bizarre and impossible as the fact that Abdel was sitting three feet away.

Abdel was  _here_. Here, in Shawn's hospital room, in fucking  _Montana_. Here, and looking at Shawn with a small, fond smile and telling Shawn,  _Don't ask stupid questions_.

Shawn remembered the final gunshot that had taken the demon's head pretty near off its neck, remembered collapsing to the ground, remembered feeling for the first time in the drawn-out fight that  _oh_ , he had been hurt. Hurt bad. He remembered the moment he realized, trying to hold his body together with one slippery, bloody hand, realized that thing he could feel was his  _ribcage, Jesus_ , and knew that he was going to die. That this was it. He'd been pretty okay with it at the time. He'd done what he'd set out to do. It wasn't like he had much to leave behind, really, never really had enough of a life to regret anything. Except...

He remembered pulling out his phone, turning it on, futilely wiping the blood-smeared screen on his jeans. Remembered the text messages that filled up his phone ( _it's snowing here; I'm re-watching Buffy; please be alive_ ). And there was one thing he thought he might regret, and so he'd pressed the call button.

And now Abdel was here. It felt almost like, like he was in purgatory, some kind of waiting room. Like a last chance for closure. A chance to see Abdel's face so he could go peacefully.

Then again, if he was dead he was pretty sure he wouldn't hurt this much. Cause he fuckin'  _hurt_.

Just in case, though, he took a minute to just, just look. To memorize the face behind the phone calls. It was a good face, warm bronze skin and dark, smiling eyes behind ugly old-fashioned glasses that sat crooked on an enormous nose. Thick black curls fell loosely almost to their shoulders, and they were wearing one of the ugliest sweaters Shawn had ever seen. He had the sneaking suspicion that it wasn't the ugliest sweater Abdel owned. A weird electronic-looking thing hung on a lanyard around their neck, something that looked almost like one of those mini voice recorders.

Looking closer, Shawn could see the past couple days had been hard on Abdi – they had dark circles under their eyes, and they were definitely rocking a five o'clock shadow. But they were smiling, they were smiling at Shawn and for the first time in forever Shawn felt...well, whatever it was, he was officially blaming it on the morphine.

"So, uh, not a big fan of flying, huh?" he asked when he realized he'd probably been staring way too long.

Abdel huffed a small laugh. "Not so much, no. Something about it all being very far out of my control. And honestly, airplanes don't look even a little bit aerodynamic, how am I supposed to trust that, hmm? And don't come at me with any of that physics nonsense, I teach communications and gender studies."

"Hey, no I got you," Shawn answered. He was trying to grin, but most of his face was fighting him on it. "I mean, why do you think I drive everywhere? I could totally get the Feds to fly me on like a private jet or some shit, but I'd much rather just drive m–  _fuck_ , what happened to my truck?"

He didn't even realize he was trying to move until the, uh, debilitating pain in his gut kicked in and he collapsed backwards again. And then Abdel was suddenly  _there_ , hands gentle on Shawn's shoulders as they maneuvered him with way more care than Shawn ever took for himself.

"Yes, Lee said you'd ask that," they remarked, giving his pillows a final fluff before returning to the shit-ass folding chair. It took every ounce of self-control Shawn's drugged-up brain had to not say _no come back_ and chase the touch. "He said to let you know that your truck is with Mandy, in a town with the rather morbid name of Hungry Horse. It's about five hours northwest of here, Leland said he'd bring you once you were well."

"Fucker's probably trying to keep me from checking myself out," Shawn grumbled. "And I wish you wouldn't talk to Lee. He's not a good guy."

"Yes, well. He has been my stalwart ally in  _keeping you alive_ , so forgive me if I beg to differ. And yes, apparently you have a history of checking yourself out of the hospital against medical advice so Leland took steps to ensure that wouldn't happen." And while Abdel was clearly trying to keep their tone light and casual, it fell short. Like, really short.

"You were worried," Shawn realized, kinda in awe of the idea. "You were actually, like, worried. About me."

"Of course I was worried, Shawn," Abdel snapped. Their eyebrows did...something, did something and it was way more effective than the glare they were throwing Shawn's way. "You disappeared and you were  _dying_ , you were  _going to die_ and I'd have never  _met_ you, you'd just be –" They cut off with a noise of frustration and covered their face with their hands. They slid those awful glasses up and rubbed at their eyes with their knuckles and holy shit, Abdi was trying not to _cry_. Shawn was just...overcome by wonder. That he could matter so much to this person he'd never met, matter to someone like Abdel.

"Hey, shit, I'm sorry Abdi. I'm sorry." Carefully, very carefully, he moved enough so that he could reach out with his good arm – a fuckin' ordeal in and of itself, with the needles and IV lines and shit – and scrabbled clumsily for Abdel's arm. Catching it, he tugged gently until they let it fall and Shawn was able to grab their hand, tangling their fingers with his own. He hadn't really thought it through, just wanted – wanted to reach, wanted to touch, wanted to ground himself and Abdel. "I'm sorry. I'm here. I'm okay."

Abdel's eyebrows did another thing, this time something that could only be called skepticism. Could eyebrows be skeptical? Because these eyebrows were. Shawn, chagrined, corrected himself. "Well, I mean right now I'm not in the best shape, but I'm gonna be okay. Promise."

Abdel rolled their eyes a bit at that, but they attempted a smile and gave Shawn's hand a light squeeze because oh, yeah, they were holding hands. To Shawn's surprise, though, Abdel didn't drop his hand. Instead, they moved their chair closer to the bed so Shawn could rest his arm against the mattress again. They hardly seemed to notice what they'd done, thumb rubbing idle circles on Shawn's knuckle. Something warm and content and  _awful_ stirred in Shawn's chest.

The morphine had a lot to answer for.

 

The conversation was stilted at first – and how could it not be, without their phones between them to moderate – long pauses and a lot more staring than was probably strictly necessary. It was only when a nurse (not  _MARK!_ , thankfully) came by to refresh the wards that Abdel was able to land on a topic.

"You know, this isn't really what I had in mind when we had the  _my life is a supernatural nightmare_ conversation initially," they commented as they and Shawn watched the nurse run her hand along the walls and murmur in what was probably Latin. The air around her shimmered like it does above hot pavement, and there were definitely things written on the walls – they flashed as she passed.

"What did you imagine?" Shawn asked, turned back to Abdel with a half-hearted attempt at a smirk. "Something more like one of your TV shows?"

Abdel grimaced. "Listen here, I may know a lot more about the supernatural than is possibly normal or healthy but it was heretofore  _entirely metaphorical_. I don't think it's entirely unreasonable for me to have not imagined protective magic in any practical sense." They couldn't help but smile back, though, as they added, "And really, be fair to me – your life sounds like an episode of  _Supernatural_ without the unhealthy family dynamics."

"Hey, screw you, my life is way more coherent than that," Shawn joked back, squeezing Abdel's hand. Because they were still holding hands. Well.

Abdel took a second to clear their throat. "Well if that's the case, why don't you tell me about what actually went down in Baltimore?"

Shawn grinned and launched into the tale. He dropped Abdel's hand to do it, because he was apparently big on talking with his hands, and his other arm was near useless at the moment. He was a good storyteller, animated and intense, broken up with a sarcastic and occasionally self-deprecating sense of humor. From the vampires in Maryland, he moved seamlessly into the story of his first (and only) almost-apocalypse. He told stories about Lee, his childhood best friend turned federal monster hunter, and Lee's tumultuous relationship with the Mandy currently in possession of Shawn's truck.

At one point, he stopped abruptly in the middle of a sentence and said, "I do walk with my hands in my pockets. And I don't wear the FBI suits, those things are for douchebags. I wear jeans and a leather jacket and I whistle while I walk."

Abdel heard what he was saying underneath it:  _You know me. You knew me before you met me._

What they said was, "Please tell me you have better taste in what you whistle at the unsuspecting public than you do in what you play on your guitar." And when Shawn grinned wickedly, stretching the puffed skin on his cheek and breaking open a smaller cut just to whistle the opening of Kesha's "Die Young," Abdel told him, "I regret every life choice that has led me to this moment."

 

"Alright, boys!" Abdel nearly jumped out of their chair when fuckin'  _MARK!_ appeared in the curtained doorway. Shawn was really, really starting to hate the sight of this cheerful bastard. Especially with the chipper misgendering. Not gonna fly. And since Abdel seemed too busy getting their heart rate back under control after being startled, well.

"Not boys," Shawn said shortly.

"Pardon?"  _MARK!_ said, pulling up short, smile dimming just slightly in his confusion.

"We're not boys, dude. I'm a grown-ass man, and Dr. Awad here left their gender somewhere in New England, probably."

Abdel stared at Shawn as he said it, something like awe and something like gratitude fighting it out on their face. Shawn ignored it because he was already feeling too many feelings about Abdel and he refused to feel any more of them today. Besides, he wanted to take a moment to enjoy that  _goddamned smile_ falling off  _MARK!_ 's face.

"I see," the nurse said, oddly cool all the sudden. "Well, regardless, I'm afraid I have to ask you, Dr. Awad, to leave. Visiting hours are over, you know."

"I didn't know, thank you." Abdi said coolly, fidgeting with the little electronic on their lanyard. "If you'll give me a moment, please."

Thankfully,  _MARK!_ didn't argue with that, just pursed his lips and swept back through the white curtain. A man that size, Shawn thought in admiration, should not be able to sweep that gracefully. It was pretty impressive. Shawn was impressed, in spite of himself.

Turning back to Abdel, he asked, "You okay? You startled pretty bad there."

Abdel smiled ruefully and held up the little device. "It was quiet in here, so I turned down the background noise. It was mostly coming in as static and that was very distracting." When Shawn's only response was a confused frown, they huffed a small laugh. "It's a streamer. For my hearing aids." They swept back their hair and, yup, there was a small clear wire looped over the top of their ear and then into it. Huh. "I have difficulty with lower registers, so a lot of what I miss without these is just background. In here, it's quiet, there's only one other person talking, and I'm looking right at him. I can turn this to a different setting and it filters out most of the non-essentials."

"But then," Shawn started, and then stopped. Shit, could he ask anything without being a dumbass about it? He really, really did not want a repeat of the gender conversation.

Abdel raised a single eyebrow. How were they holding so much emotion in their eyebrows?

"How are you holding so much emotion in your eyebrows?" Then, "Shit. Fuck."

"Shawn," Abdi said, laying their hand gently on Shawn's arm again. "Just ask. Not about the eyebrows, you idiot," they added fondly. "You wanted to know something about my hearing aids?"

"Uh, I was just wondering...because you seemed to hear me fine on the phone?"

"The wonders of modern technology. It's Bluetooth. Instead of listening through my phone, it directs your dulcet tones directly into my ear. Nifty, hmmm?"

Jesus Christ,  _nifty_. Who the fuck even said that anymore. "Yeah," he agreed, helpless against the grin he could feel spread over his face. "Nifty."

 ( **April 8)**

10:28 pm, MST

 _(802): I'm checked into a nearby hotel for the evening. Given that I've been running primarily on hospital coffee and a vague sense of unreality for the past several hours, I'm probably going to head straight to bed._  
_Goodnight Shawn_  
_I'll see you in the morning._

_(301): night abdi  
wait whens ur flight back_

_(802): I haven't bought the ticket yet.  
I wasn't sure what to expect, and honestly wasn't thinking that far ahead for once in my life._

_(301): damn  
whatd u tell ur students_

_(802): To stick to the syllabus while I dealt with a personal emergency._

_(301): aw i qualify as a personal emergency??  
ur 2 sweet_

_(802): Well you're definitely some kind of emergency._

_(301): i feel like i should object to that_

_(802): Go to sleep, Shawn._

  **(April 9)**

When Abdel arrived at the hospital again the next morning, they managed to find their way back to Shawn's room after getting lost only once. They smiled at the receptionist and the nurses ( _MARK!_ was nowhere to be seen, thankfully) and opened the strange white curtain to find a short white man in an ill-fitting suit glaring at Shawn from the creaky bedside chair. Shawn was grinning, though, so it probably wasn't too serious.

"Abdi!" Shawn exclaimed when he caught sight of them over the stranger's shoulder. His grin widened, looking slightly less painful than yesterday, though the bruises on his face were more colorful now. "Come on in. This miserable asswipe is Agent Leland, also known as Lee, also known as my boss, also known as my childhood best friend, also known as –"

"Shut the fuck up, Strange," Leland said flatly, and stood to turn and face Abdel. He was shorter than them by several inches, but had an undeniable presence in the room. Despite this, he was oddly nondescript – broad-shouldered, short military brush cut, but everything almost...colorless. Abdel had the sneaking suspicion that, were they ever asked to describe this man when he wasn't in the room, they'd be entirely unable to do so.

Leland offered his hand. "Dr. Awad," he said, that same dry monotone. Abdel wondered if he'd never learned how to emphasize his tones properly. The flatness reminded them slightly of a Deaf girl they'd known once in high school, at the support group where they picked up most of the ASL they knew. "Good. I was beginning to regret saving this motherfucker's life."

"Love you, too, Lee," Shawn said cheerfully. He added, to Abdel, "He's saying thank you. He's a very growly softy, really."

Leland just raised his eyebrows very, very slightly, without even turning to look at Shawn. And yet –

"Hey, don't make that face, you dick."

Abdel peered over Leland's shoulder to raise their own brows at Shawn, who just shrugged. "We've known each other too long," he offered in explanation.

Leland closed his eyes briefly, and Abdel liked to think that a normal person would heave an exasperated sigh, but Lee seemed quite incapable of normal expressions of human emotion. "I'm leaving. Dr. Awad, I'm sure I'll see you later."

"I think," Abdel said slowly, sitting down once more in that awful chair as Leland left the room. "I'm beginning to understand your strange relationship with that man."

Shawn snorted, and then winced a bit. "That's probably the most normal interaction we've had in years. It's how I can tell he was really worried this time."

"As opposed to all the other times?" Abdel asked skeptically.

Shawn did that odd, laying down half shrug. "It's usually not that dire. I mean, I generally survive."

And that was just one time too many that phrase had been used so casually in Abdel's presence. They were beginning to be seriously concerned about Shawn's lifestyle. "Okay, that's it. What the  _hell_ do you two mean when you say that?"

"Well," Shawn started, grinning. He made an odd wriggling motion, then, "Wait, help me sit up. I'm a way better storyteller that way."

Abdel obliged, placing one gentle hand behind Shawn's shoulders and grasping Shawn's hand with the other. Once Shawn was mostly sat up, surrounded by pillows, he kept Abdel's hand, tugging gently. Abdel had to fight back a smile as they obeyed the silent command to pull the chair closer to the bed again. Shawn squeezed their hand once, hard, in approval before releasing it for storytelling.

"Okay, so, I do wanna preface this by saying I've only actually  _medically_ been dead once –"

" _Excuse me?_ "

"Just once! And only for like, thirty seconds. So, no harm, no foul, right? Anyway, the joke is I've been legally dead like, I dunno, seven times now."

Concerned was not a strong enough word, it would seem. "I knew that phrase was not nearly as comforting as you and Leland were attempting to make it seem."

Shawn's smile was completely unrepentant.

 **(April 10)**  

"When I first woke up, you said, you said these weren't the ideal circumstance to meet. Did you – I mean, have you thought about, before –"

Luckily for Shawn, Abdel was merciful. They cut off his stumbling question before he could strangle himself on the words he couldn't quite find.

"Have I imagined meeting you, in person?" Their mouth was lifted in one corner in a sort of wry half-smile that Shawn was quickly becoming familiar with. He nodded. "Absolutely. I had thought that, seeing as you have a place to stay in Burlington, if you call breaking and entering into your boss's apartment a place to stay –"

"Oh, I do."

"– I'd thought that perhaps, the next time you were in Burlington, you'd let me know. And we could, I don't know, meet for coffee. I could show you that Vermont is actually quite lovely once you get past the length of New England winter. I should have known that something like coffee would be far too mundane for you."

"Hey, it doesn't count as real friendship if it begins in bloodless circumstances," Shawn said cheerfully. It was, unfortunately, a distressingly accurate description of his life and relationships.

"Your definition of friendship is, frankly, terrifying," Abdel remarked dryly.

"And mystically binding!" Shawn added. Abdel had to smother a half-hysterical laugh in their fist.

  **(April 13)**

When Abdel arrived at Shawn's room in the morning,  _MARK!_ was just leaving. He smiled tightly at Abdel and nodded a greeting before continuing away. Behind the curtain door, Shawn was frowning after him, but the expression lightened when he saw Abdel.

"Hey, you. You just missed the scariest nurse of all time."

"Mmm, yes I saw," Abdel replied, pulling the chair up next to the bed again. "I don't think he's very fond of me."

"Yeah, pretty sure he's just afraid of gender or something," Shawn said dismissively, glaring once more at the empty doorway. "God, I hope they don't feed his smiles to children when he's not here, warding rooms or whatever the hell."

"I'm rather afraid they do."

"Christ." Shawn seemed to chew on that for a second before turning back to face Abdel. "Anyway, they're starting to say I can probably leave tomorrow, which is neat. Look at me, all healing and shit." He lifted both arms and waved around a bit to prove his point.

Abdel couldn't help but roll their eyes at that. But it was good, really, how quickly Shawn was recovering. His face was hardly swollen at all anymore, and he was able to sit up and even walk around some on his own. The bruising was really quite spectacular still, but parts were beginning to fade to yellow. Shawn was even able to smile with his whole face this morning, for the first time since Abdel had met him. It was a little unfortunate, they had to admit: Shawn's smile was blinding, full-on.

"That's excellent to hear. So you'll be making your way to Hungry Horse tomorrow with the ever-delightful Leland?"

"Not so much," Shawn said, waving his phone absently. "He had to go back to DC, which he's pissed about. I can tell because he's morphed into a bureaucratic fussnugget and haranguing me about a fuckin' incident report, of all things."

"The federal government takes worker's compensation claims very seriously, I imagine," Abdel replied. "Although, how do you claim injuries in your line of work? I don't think you'd write,  _ripped into by a fuckcrazy Firyer'i demon_ , would you?"

"You liked that phrasing, huh? And no. I dunno, it's always a pain in the ass to make this shit up. I'll probably put down whatever they told the hospital, bears or wolves or some shit. Anyway, I called Mandy earlier, and she got the kid who works her ranch with her to drive her down in the truck. Says he wants to visit his brother at the university anyway. They'll come 'round tomorrow afternoon, probably."

"And once you're checked out, and you have your truck back?" Abdel asked carefully. This was the part they'd been dreading for the past few days, reluctant as they'd been to admit it even to themself. The part where Shawn disappeared again, where he became nothing more than a voice on the other end of the line. The part where Shawn flung himself back into danger and Abdel had no way of knowing if he'd survive this time, no way of knowing when they'd see him again.

Shawn shrugged awkwardly, the motion still hindered by his injuries. "Back to DC, I guess. Lee will have me on desk duty for a while, given this whole," he gestured at his entire self. "Thing. After that...I actually don't know. I – well, I'm sure you probably figured this already but, uh, I didn't exactly plan on surviving to this point."

Shawn couldn't meet Abdel's eyes as he confessed this last bit, and Abdel could hardly blame him. He'd been right, Abdel had known – or, at least they'd guessed – that Shawn hadn't seen or even looked for a way past avenging his parents. Still, the knowledge hurt, and frightened Abdel more than they'd like to admit. They did the only thing they could think to do, reaching over and clutching Shawn's hand tightly in their own. Reassuring them both that Shawn was still there. Shawn smiled wanly down at their clasped hands, gave Abdel's a little squeeze.

The small gesture tipped Abdel's courage over the edge and they blurted, "Come back with me." Shawn went so still that Abdel feared he'd stopped breathing, and they hurried on. "You can do most of your paperwork remotely, yes? You were working from a motel after the Michigan incident, if I remember correctly. Come back with me, you can – you can stay at my house while you recover, I can clear the guest room and you can help me grade papers and write unsettling remarks in the margins about the accuracy of the mythologies my students cite." Shawn stayed silent, his eyes wide as saucers. Abdel might have broken him. Shit. They dropped his hand and pushed the chair back from the bed, the awful scraping sound too loud in the small room. "Or, I mean, obviously you don't have to come, it was – it was a bad idea, nevermind, I only –"

"Abdi," Shawn kindly interrupted their babbling, voice oddly rough. He pushed himself up in bed, wincing only slightly, and swung his legs clumsily over the side. His legs were bare beneath the hospital gown, and in better shape than the rest of him had been, no new injuries in sight. There were old scars, though, and tattoos winding dark ink up his left leg. Abdel wasn't sure if staring at Shawn's calves was more or less creepy then asking him to  _basically move in with them_ , but they couldn't make themself care. Anything was better than trying to meet Shawn's eye. The silence was overwhelming.

A rough, calloused hand landed gently on Abdel's knee, and they finally looked up at Shawn. His face was closer than they'd expected, and there was something open and... _awed_ in his expression that Abdel just couldn't understand.

"Abdi," he said again, voice soft. "You – do you mean it?" Abdel nodded mutely. Of course they did. They meant more than that, too, but one ridiculous emotional thing at a time, really. Shawn swallowed audibly. "Thank you. I – if you road trip with me, you don't have to get on another plane. We could, we could go together."

"Well, I do hate flying," Abdel replied, annoyed to find their own voice shaking. The hesitated, then put their own hand on Shawn's, pulling it off their knee and lacing their fingers together. "You want to? To come stay with me for – for a while?"

"I really, really do," Shawn said, and his grin was back. "Although, uh, I feel like I should tell you, in case you wanna like, rescind the offer..."

"What? That you hunt monsters and it's a dangerous life? Or that your car is named, quite alarmingly, I might add, the  _Junk Bucket_ and may not actually hold up to a cross country trip –"

"Hey, the Bucket's  _fine_ , and besides, Mandy will have renewed most of the spellwork holding it together while she had it."

"Not comforting, Shawn," Abdel said, but they couldn't keep the amusement from their tone.

"No, I just – before you literally take me home, you should probably know that I'm like half in love with you." The last came out a little rushed, and though Shawn was still smiling, Abdel could read the concern in his eyes.

 _Half in love with you_. Damn. There had been times, especially in the weeks before Shawn disappeared, when Abdel had thought that perhaps, just maybe, Shawn had been flirting. They hadn't let themself hope, though. After all, it wasn't like there had been any chance of them meeting, and it was silly, really, to harbor hopes and feelings about a virtual stranger. And when they had met, in these past few days spent by Shawn's bedside, there had been hints, maybe, but nothing that could have prepared Abdel for this confession. But here Shawn was, holding their hand and telling them,  _I'm like half in love with you_.

The moment stretched on as Abdel struggled for a response, the stillness broken only when Shawn choked out an awkward laugh and tried to disentangle his hand. "Yeah, I thought that might be a little off-putting," he said, aiming for light and joking and missing by a few thousand miles.

Abdel clamped down harder on Shawn's hand, refusing to let go, shaking their head and cutting off whatever Shawn was about to say. Finally finding their voice, Abdel croaked out, "Only half? Well, I'd say you've got some catching up to do."

Shawn's answering smile was – fuck, even with the scabs and the remnants of the bruising, that smile had to be the most beautiful thing Abdel had ever seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: bluetooth-equipped hearing aids are a real thing! and super useful (though expensive as hell, and almost certainly not covered by your health insurance). they're wireless and require the use of an intermediary between you and your phone/tablet/etc (called a streamer), and it means you can connect your hearing aid directly to your music/phone. it means that I've actually been able to call my aunt and have us understand each other for the first time since I was a kid.  
> early hearing loss runs in my family. about half of us have high-frequency hearing loss and half have low-frequency. I started losing my hearing about eight years ago, and while I have a while before I need hearing aids, let me tell you it's annoying as hell. since I have low-frequency hearing loss (meaning I have trouble hearing sounds in the lower registers), that's what I've given Abdel.
> 
>  
> 
> thanks for sticking through this with me! my goal with the next one is to flesh out some of the other characters in these stories – Lee is an asshole and a delight, and he deserves more face time, as does his little sister.  
> fun fact: Shawn and Abdel started off as characters that appear briefly in a few chapters of a much longer original story/hypothetical series/incomplete novel. oops?


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